


Those we love

by Killermanatee



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: 25 Days of Voyager, Beyer-verse, Book: Eternal Tide - Kirsten Beyer, Book: Full Circle - Kirsten Beyer, Chakotay and Phoebe, Christmas, Established Relationship, F/M, Kathryn isn't the easiest sister to have, Post-Endgame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 08:46:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17138666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Killermanatee/pseuds/Killermanatee
Summary: Chakotay spends his first Christmas with the Janeway women.Set in the Kirsten Beyer Relaunch-Verse, spoilers for Full Circle and Eternal Tide.





	Those we love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ariella884](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariella884/gifts).



> For Ariella884, who may just love the Beyer-books as much as I do. ;) 
> 
> Merry Christmas everyone. <3

Captain Chakotay’s stomach is tense as he stands on the front steps of the Janeway family home, his hands holding the casserole. _This is ridiculous_ , he tells himself. He’s been here numerous times, has brought dishes for various dinners, has helped to clean up and even spent nights in Kathryn’s old bedroom.

Yet he is feeling uncomfortably sweaty under his coat despite the chill of the Indiana winter. There is no denying that today is different. This is a piece of Kathryn’s childhood; her family tradition and something he’s never been part of.

Until now. Now that this family also became his two months ago, no more than four weeks after their return with the Full Circle Fleet.

Through the window he can see the large tree in the warmth of the living room, the red and gold decorations reflecting the lights of candles and the fireplace. He wonders if it looked the same when Kathryn was a child.

He thinks of the drinks they’d always share on this night, far away from home and their family traditions. Not too long into their journey, she had told him about Christmas Eve with her mother and sister, and by the third year he’d always made sure to save up some rations to invite her over for dinner. It was never a _Christmas dinner_ , but she would smile at him with fondness and that look on her face would be enough to sustain him through many of the difficult times.

The door opens and Phoebe appears, face framed in curls and lips quirked in the smile that reminds Chakotay so much of Kathryn’s despite its lingering hint of sarcasm.

“Do you plan on coming in or are you just going to freeze out here?” she asks and steps back inside without awaiting his answer.

He can count the times he’s met her on one hand and if her greeting is any indication, she still has not warmed to him. As she makes her way down the hall he can hear her yell out to her sister up the stairs.

“Kathryn, get down! Chakotay’s here.”

The uncanny sensation of being a teenager again washes over him and with a sigh he steps over the threshold. Kathryn makes her way down the stairs and maybe the flutter of his heart is a little ridiculous considering their history, age, marital status and fact that he has just seen her this morning, but nevertheless it’s still quite noticeable.

“Hi,” she greets, giving him a happy smile. “Here, I’ve got this.” She takes the dish from him to carry it to the kitchen.

He shrugs off his coat and hangs it next to hers on the rack her grandfather built and which he helped to repair only a month ago. He inspects the small lines of where he had to inlay a new piece of wood, but it looks like it has settled the way it was supposed to. He checks his appearance in the mirror, hoping the tunic and vest are appropriate for Christmas dinner and before any of the Janeway women can tease him for his bout of insecurity, he walks to the kitchen to join them.

“Chakotay!” Gretchen exclaims with a smile, and wipes her hands on a towel. In an instant, thin but strong arms are pulling him into a hug and he bends his head so she can press a kiss to his cheek.

“I told Kathryn you wouldn’t have to bring anything, but thank you,” she tells him as she is already back at the stove, stirring sauce.

“It’s the least I could do,” he states simply and Kathryn smiles at him as she lightly entwines their fingers. It’s a small gesture but puts him at ease instantly.

Soon after, there are large dishes on the table, leaving barely enough room for their plates. Chakotay is not sure how four people are expected to eat all of this, but it certainly smells tempting enough.

Phoebe has poured generous amounts of wine for everyone and Gretchen encourages them to fill their plates.

There is small talk about the weather; Gretchen asks about Chakotay’s family and his upcoming trip to Dorvan. The questions and answers flow between bites of beans and mashed potatoes, cauliflower steak for Chakotay and carp for the women. Phoebe remains quiet, looking back and forth between them as Kathryn and Chakotay share stories of her last diplomatic function.

Amidst their tale about the complexities of establishing first contact with a species communicating entirely through images, Phoebe finally speaks up. “So how soon are they sending you back there?”

Chakotay and Kathryn exchange a look, then Kathryn replies carefully. “It’s not been decided yet.”

Phoebe crosses her arms over her chest. “But if they ask, you will just follow that order.”

Kathryn takes a deep breath, and Chakotay knows she is trying her best to stay calm and controlled but the tenseness of her jaw shows her irritation.  

“Yes, Phoebe. If they tell us to go, we will.”

“You’re hopeless, you know that?” Phoebe gets up and begins to noisily pile up plates and cutlery. “Nothing will ever change your need to put yourself in danger. Not the fact that you died, not seeing all these ships be destroyed during your last mission, not getting married, and clearly not any thought as to what you make all of us go through every time you put your life on the line like it’s nothing. You just can’t help but be reckless.”

She sets the dishes down with a clatter, breathing hard, anger all over her features.

“Phoebe, darling, this isn’t the right…” Gretchen tries to calm her daughter but instead is interrupted.

“No, Mom. This is exactly the right time. Because it is the _only_ time we ever get to see you, Kathryn,” she adds with an angry glare at her sister.

The room falls quiet and Chakotay is unsure if he is supposed to step in, or if it’s best to remain on the outside. He is obviously aware of the complications between Kathryn and Phoebe - having been told anecdotes and been privy to his wife’s concerns regarding her younger sister - but he’s never seen this raw hurt between them.  

Finally Phoebe rubs her hands over her face. “I need some air,” she states quietly and leaves the dining room.

The sound of the door slices through the silence, causing the momentary paralysis to end.

“I am sorry, Mom. I should have talked to her beforehand, maybe I could have explained…”

“Don’t apologize. You know Phoebe, she’ll be fine.” Gretchen rises and continues clearing off the table. “Give her a few minutes in the fresh air. She’ll calm down.”

Kathryn rubs her forehead and then looks at Chakotay apologetically. “I am sorry you were here for that.”

“Stop worrying.” He reaches for her hand and squeezes her fingers lightly. “Let’s clean up. I’m sure dessert will motivate her to come back inside.”

Gretchen smiles at that. “Chakotay, stay where you are. It’s not much.” There is a poignant look she shoots at her eldest daughter and the message is clear to Chakotay: They need a moment alone. So he watches as the two of them vanish in the kitchen, then decides to follow Phoebe outside.

\---

Chakotay doesn’t see Phoebe right away as he takes a deep breath and allows the cool fresh air to fill his lungs.

“Did they send you as intermediary?” Phoebes voice cuts through the silence, startling him. She’s leaning against the porch railing on the edge of the deck, her posture tense.

“No,” he replies quietly, waiting for her to choose what she wants to say.

Instead of speaking up she looks back out over the snow and raises her hand to her lips, inhaling deeply and then blowing thick smoke out into the night. It’s been a long time since Chakotay has seen anyone smoke, but the smell evokes memories of dingy bars, late nights with friends and a time when his life was distinctively less domestic.

“Don’t tell my sister,” Phoebe’s voice interrupts his memories.

“My lips are sealed.” The words hang between them as they stand in silence, until he adds “I didn’t think Kathryn’s opinion would matter to you.”

Her brows crease but she doesn’t look at him. “Kathryn’s opinions matter to everyone,” she finally says on an exhale.

After a long pause of her continuing to smoke and him beginning to wonder if maybe he should have grabbed his coat, Phoebe speaks up again. “What is she like when she’s out there with you?”

Chakotay tries to find the appropriate words that extend beyond the obvious, that don’t sound like he’s just commemorating her, and adjectives like ‘dedicated’ and ‘compassionate’ float through his mind, intercepted by more personal attributes like ‘sensual’ and ‘enticing’ until Phoebe sighs. “You don’t have to answer.”

“I want to; it’s just a complicated question. I am not sure I can sum her up in a few words.”

Phoebe gives him a long glance that he can’t read, then she takes another deep drag and exhales the thick smoke. Chakotay is engulfed in the sweet scent before the light breeze carries it away.

“She isn’t the same woman who went to investigate that Borg cube,” he finally says.

“Still seems like she is when it comes to her need to put herself in harm’s way,” Phoebe’s voice has an undertone of bitterness. It’s a sensation not unfamiliar to Chakotay. 

“Maybe you should give her another chance. She has been through a lot since then, she’s talked to…”

“She died,” Phoebe interrupts plainly.

“Yes, she did.” The years have dulled the pain at losing her, but hearing the fact in such simplicity still takes him back to the darkest days of his life and ties his stomach into knots.

Yet Phoebe continues, “She died and I was left behind _again_ to watch my mother try her best to cope with even more loss, to not fall to pieces. I thought I knew how to do that, we’ve damn well had enough of it, but this time… This time we had the confirmation Starfleet had killed her. And then we get her back and it’s the second damn miracle she’s pulled off and all she can think of is to throw that chance away, like her life is worth nothing to the people who love her.”

Chakotay’s hands are holding on tightly to the wood of the railing. “You are wrong.” The force and finality of his statement appear to have surprised Phoebe, who takes an audible breath, and a mix of emotions dances over her expressive face.  

“Fine,” she finally says, sounding exasperated, “enlighten me.”

“With all due respect to what you and your mother went through, don’t assume for a second you are the only ones who felt that way, or that Kathryn isn’t completely aware of what consequences her actions had.”

His harsh words seem to have struck her and she turns away, looking back out onto the snow covered yard. Chakotay closes his eyes, reigning his temper back in. This is neither the time nor the place to pick a fight with his sister-in-law.

“I am sorry.” Phoebe’s apology surprises him. It makes him look up at that profile so similar to the one he loves, and somehow the anger just falls away. “Kathryn is the clear-headed one. I’m sure you’ve noticed,” she says, one corner of her mouth curving up.

“It may have come to my attention,” he replies.

Phoebe turns to him, one hip leaned against the railing, arms crossed in front of her chest.

“Is she happy when she’s out there?”

A variety of memories race through him, of discovery and danger and happiness, barely enough to recall separate events. Then his mind slows, leaving him with one clear picture: Kathryn out on an alien planet, eyes focused on her tricorder, unruly wisps of hair framing her face, uniform jacket discarded, face aglow with excitement.

“Yes,” he says without doubt, “she is. Down here she is already remarkable, but up there,” he points to the sky, “she is magnificent.”

Phoebe’s posture relaxes as she pulls her cardigan closer around herself. Her grey eyes roam his face and he lets her take her time to find what she is searching for.

“I am glad she has you there by her side,” she finally says and the open compliment surprises him. Unsure how to reply he settles for “Thank you,” and hopes his smile conveys his appreciation for the sentiment.

He clears his throat, and wanting to change the subject to something lighter asks, “Where is your dog? What is her name again? Amy?”

“Annie.”

“Apologies.”

“No need. She stayed home. Now that she’s blind, travelling is hard on her, so I am not spending the night.”

“I am sorry to hear that,” he offers, feeling compassion for Phoebe, knowing how much the pet means to her.

“It is what it is. We all get old.” She poignantly looks at the grey streaking Chakotay’s hair and it makes him laugh.

“True.”

She takes another deep breath of smoke and when she exhales, Chakotay finds himself inhaling some of it and enjoying the calm that has begun to settle inside him.

“Did you ever have a pet?” Phoebe inquires.

“No, but my ancestors here on Earth did. When they left to find a new home, they didn’t want to introduce invasive species to a new ecosystem so they didn’t bring any animals along.”

“They chose to abandon their pets?” Phoebe huffs and he takes a deep breath, but he can’t be annoyed anymore.

“No, before they departed they ensured the animals’ well-being.”

“I’m glad.”

Her seal of approval makes him chuckle and he leans against a column. He crosses his arms to warm his fingers. It feels good to give in to the sluggishness as the starches flood his blood stream and to just _be_ , out here on Earth, at his wife’s childhood home.

Once again Phoebe interrupts his musings, “In all honesty though, are there days when Kathryn drives you insane? Please tell me there are?”

Chakotay laughs. “If I answered that truthfully, your sister would probably divorce me.”

He is surprised by Phoebes open laugh, struck by how carefree it sounds out here in the Indiana night.

“I wouldn’t want to meddle with your marital bliss.” She takes another long drag and pockets the small device as she exhales. “I’m getting cold. How do you feel about some coffee?”

“I could never say no to Phoebe Janeway’s coffee,” he replies as she is already holding the door for him.

 

\---

 

“I’ve had too much to drink,” Kathryn mumbles into Chakotay’s chest.

They are curled up in her old bedroom, resting in the bed they have shared before, even if at those times they were distinctively less intoxicated.

He hugs her tight, presses a kiss to her crown and she sinks deeper into the cushions.

“I shouldn’t have had that second Irish coffee.”

He snorts. “I think you mean the third and fourth.”

She sighs and kisses his neck. “Thank you for talking to Phoebe.”

“My pleasure. She’s a good person and she means well.”

“I know,” Kathryn sighs, “I just wish I hadn’t hurt her so much…”

He strokes her back, hoping to sooth her worries. “That’s in the nature of things: We can only ever truly be hurt by the people we love.”

She leans back and gives him a look from under her creased brows. “That’s awful.”

“Maybe. Doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

She seems to ponder that thought for a moment, then slides back against his chest.

Chakotay continues quietly, “You are kind, dedicated and compassionate, Kathryn. Being the wonderful person that you are; it means you are incredibly important to the people who love you. And there happen to be a lot of us.”

She is quiet for a few breaths and just when he wonders if she’s fallen asleep she speaks up again. “That is a nice Christmas thought. Even if I don’t want to think about that responsibility.”

“The way I see it, there isn’t much you can do about people loving you.”

“I could always just start being terrible,” she suggest, and he’s surprised by the mischief in her voice. Then his breath catches as her fingers run lower on his back, down to the top of his shorts.

“Is that so?” he teases back, entwining their legs “How would you go about that?”

Light kisses are trailed from his neck up to his ear. “I could get drunk at my mother’s house and bring a man into my bedroom to let him take advantage of me.”

He grins. “I’m sure that man would gladly help corrupt you.”

And then he does just that.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of the [25 Days of Voyager](url). Massive thanks go to [Ariella882](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariella884/works) for setting up this project and maintaining the collection. 
> 
> Big thanks also to [BlackVelvet42](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackVelvet42/works) and [Miss_Mil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Mil/works) for the tender love and care that helped me write this. I am very happy to have you both in my life. <3


End file.
